“Take a look at him.” Keller gestured to Johnny. “How do you think he got to be the way he is? Those chemicals.” Johnny playfully shoved Keller.
“As sweet as this brother-buddy moment is,” Holly interrupted, “I’m still trying to get past the whole you live here thing.”
“Ah.” Johnny nodded. “If it makes a difference, it only smells like chemicals when I’ve brought a project home, and the smell doesn’t reach the house.”
“Oh, really?” Holly tipped her head to one side. “Thank goodness. I was really worried about the chemical smell. No worries now! I’m all good. Just splendid!”
She stormed off without knowing where she was going. A dark door at the dead-end of a hallway off the living room looked appealing. It looked like the kind of door that would lead to a library or a cool, quiet study. She pushed into the room. The room certainly was cool and quiet. It might have been some kind of study, but it was unlike any study she’d seen or imagined before. The floors were black marble shot through with thin veins of gold, and the walls were painted a deep shade of either red or purple. Holly couldn’t tell in the low light.
It wasn’t the wall color that stumped her, though. It was what was on the walls.
All four walls bore the same design. Tree branches. Some were thin and willowy. Some were thick and knobby. Some were painted in gold, others in black or white. There were a few in vibrant red. Dotted throughout the tree were small portraits.
Holly realized she was standing in the middle of a family tree. But who’s family? She wasn’t a wiz when it came to family history, but she didn’t recognize any of these names.
She stepped close to one wall, placing a fingertip on one of the branches. She walked, seeing where the branch followed. Her finger slid across a portrait. Intense gray-green eyes captured her attention.
Johnny.
Why did Johnny have a portrait on a family tree in her grandmother’s home?
Holly stepped backward into the center of the room. Now that her eyes were adjusted to the low light, she could make out more details of the tree. It wasn’t just one family tree. It was dozens. No wonder she didn’t recognize any of the names. It wasn’t her family.
She looked around the room until she saw a familiar face. Her grandmother, Pearl. Pearl had many lines coming out of her portrait. Some of them went back into her family tree, but most of them went to other trees. Holly wasn’t sure if the different colored lines meant different relationships or not.
She followed a branch from her grandmother’s portrait to her father’s. It was an old portrait, likely made when he was a teenager. She then followed a branch up from her father’s portrait to her own. It was taken from one of Holly’s favorite photographs of herself. She used it for all her social media profiles. If Pearl was, in fact, the artist behind this unusual and complex mural, then she must’ve gotten the image online.
Holly expected the branches to stop at her portrait, but they didn’t. One, shining brilliant gold, branched to her portrait’s left. There was an empty space, not attached to any other tree. There was another empty space above her portrait connected by a dark branch that might’ve been green. It was still hard to tell for sure.
She knew how family trees were structured. The spot to her left was for her eventual partner. The spot above was for their child. After a quick look, Holly realized only her portrait was set up this way. Her sisters didn’t have spots for their future partners and children. In fact, her sisters didn’t even have portraits. Their names were written in elegant silver calligraphy. Her middle sister, Jasmina, had little white jasmine blooms around her name. Her youngest sister, Rosaline’s, name was decorated with red petals.
Yet no portraits. Was it because Holly was the oldest? Would the other two have gotten their own names and portraits if Pearl hadn’t passed? She looked around the trees for other names like theirs. There were a few, kept close to the roots of every tree. Strange.
A knock at the door startled Holly out of her skin. She’d completely forgotten this room was attached to an entire house. A house that came with three unexpected roommates.
She went to the door and opened it just a crack. Johnny, Keller, and Garret stood clustered around the door.
“Are you okay?” Garret asked.
“I’m not as freaked out as I was before,” Holly admitted, opening the door all the way. “What’s the deal with this room?”
Johnny, Keller, and Garret exchanged a glance. Holly let out a frustrated sigh.
“Let me guess. You can’t tell me?”
“I think we should just tell her,” Johnny said. “She’s already seen the trees. This whole plan has already gone to hell. Surely, Pearl will understand.”
“You talk of her as if she’s still alive,” Holly said. A stone of dread sank to the bottom of her stomach. After everything that happened to her today, she wouldn’t be surprised if her grandmother walked through the front door, fit as a fiddle.
“Pearl was...special,” Keller said carefully.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Holly frowned. “I’m getting really sick of all this cryptic bullshit. What’s the point?”
“Hang on.” Johnny pushed his way through the door. “Let me check something.” He walked over to a desk against one of the walls. Holly was so caught up in the portraits and branches that she had barely noticed the furniture.
Johnny rifled through the desk and frowned.
“I thought she might’ve left a letter here,” he explained.
“I don’t care if she left a letter or not,” Holly snapped. “Why is my portrait arranged the way it is? Why are you on the wall?”
Johnny took
